


She will not come

by Naraht



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Translation from Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 03:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14011476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naraht/pseuds/Naraht
Summary: How young we were.(A translation from Russian.)





	She will not come

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Она не придёт](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13505037) by [toTetsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toTetsu/pseuds/toTetsu). 



> I first read this story with the help of Google Translate, and thought that it deserved a wider audience. So the following is my experiment with 'post-editing machine translation,' as it's apparently called.
> 
> I haven't aimed for a fully literal translation but if you see anything that seems wrong, please do let me know. I want to be as faithful to the story as I can!
> 
> Finally, please do comment on the original as well. I'm not responsible for the content, only for the English.

**THEN**

_She won't come!_ I cast a quick glance at the dial of my new Ruhla "Caliber", which I managed to buy with my generous prize money while at the winter training camp in East Germany.

The Mariinsky is not far from here, and the class ended a long time ago – she's half an hour late. I tell myself I shouldn't worry, it's not that long. 

_Will she come?_ Still hoping, I stand and gaze at the crowded embankment in the evening.

She didn't tell me yes, but she didn't say no either. I wasn't this nervous at my first Youth Olympic Games! Squeezing a modest bunch of lilies of the valley in my hand, I decide that I'll wait until the last.

At the rink I'm constantly surrounded by girls, but I never paid attention to any of them until this spring. At my coach's insistence, I switched to a new choreographer from the Mariinsky Theater. Elegant and graceful, a beautiful swan fluttering across the stage - Lilia Baranovskaya captivated me from the beginning.

I don't know where I got the courage to go up to her, to talk to her, to invite her out. And it's not as if I'm an ordinary boy from the company – I'm a two-time champion, I got onto the national team of the Soviet Union while still a junior, and the coaches have high hopes for me. Only for her it doesn't mean anything. Neither yes nor no, only the haughty inclination of the head and the barely perceptible half-smile from those severe lips.

My beautiful ballerina – my Lilia!

*** 

**NOW**

Spring in Piter is changeable, warmed only by the generous rays of the sun. The icy wind off the Neva nearly blows the hat from my – now almost bald – head.

This embankment has always meant so much to us. Otherwise why would I find myself remembering the days of distant youth, when I was just Yasha, and my head was adorned with luxurious hair? Well, so I have less hair now, what it is worth regretting?

That distant spring I fell in love with all the ardor of a seventeen-year-old boy! Even my thoughts about the upcoming Olympics receded into the background. Fortunately, you made it clear in time that you, the future _prima ballerina_ , were only interested in a champion. For me it was the best motivation. A few years later I burst onto the Bolshoi stage and hung a gold medal around the neck of the beautiful Odette. I wasn't embarrassed by your triumphant premiere, nor by what the whole world now knew about us. Most importantly, I heard the cherished "yes" in return!

Our marriage wasn't easy. How can you combine sports and ballet, competitions and tours, exorbitant ambitions and two stubborn characters? For many years we got along perfectly well, empathizing and supporting each other through every challenge. How many we had – numerous injuries, backstage games on the part of the federation, all our ups and downs. I didn't miss any of your premieres, and you always cheered for me from the stands during the big competitions. And it was you who insisted that it was time for me to bring my competitive career to an end.

But at some point we began to move apart from one another, allowing insults to come between us. Perhaps it was because the laughter of children never filled our home. I found myself in the role of coach, running away from my problems on the ice rink – and you, always and in everything, remained the _prima_.

***

I shift from foot to foot, waiting at our usual place. I look at the dial of my watch. Now it's a bold Rolex – Victor's gift after he won gold at the Olympics. He's my best student, but now he has to go his own way!

As always, half an hour has gone by, and still you haven't arrived. Or maybe you won't come at all? After all, there are still reasons for you to hold a grudge against me.

And yet over the telephone I was very persistent. You admire talent, and I'm almost certain you'll at least agree to see what Yurka is capable of. It's not easy for him either, we both need him. And there, who knows ... 

Maybe you'll understand what these children mean to me, why I invest so much in them. Why many people are willing to sacrifice so much for their own children. Many, but not us! I realized too late that our family is what we sacrificed in exchange for my fame and your glory.

The wind tosses the bouquet of lilies of the valley in my hand. I feel so excited, as if I'm still the young man who many years ago waited on this very promenade and believed, hoping for a miracle.

I lift my eyes and see you. 

You walk slowly, like a ship under sail, enjoying the warmth of the spring. Tall, still as slender as a girl, in a fashionable fitted coat - you always attract interested looks from people passing by. Your face, usually so strict, is now smoothed into a happy smile. As before, your dark eyes burn me through, making me forget everything else in the world. Despite my years, my heart, full of heat and new hope, catches in my chest.

"You've come!"


End file.
